O’HAGAN. Ah, bosh! No jury would give you more than a tenner, and then you couldn’t get tenpence from Dan. DENIS. I could rid the country of him. DEEGAN. I’ll do that without you. I’m shipping him myself. DAN [_sobbing_]. I don’t want to crass the seas.... I’m too ould, and I’m no skolard.... DENIS. You’re not too ould to destroy young gerrils!... You and your conversation-lozengers is a danger to the parish. DAN [_weeping_]. Don’t paint me blacker than I am, Denis. [_Sobs quietly._] O’HAGAN. This is a very pathetic case. The poor boy doesn’t want to leave the green hills and dales of holy Ireland. DENIS. He should lave the gerrils alone, well. O’HAGAN. Ah, for shame, Denis. You were young yourself.... Any white jury would forgive Dan for passing a lozenger to lovely Rose M’Gothigan.... Look at the eye in her head. One glance of it would kill a man like the lightning. [_To ROSE_] I’ll engage you wouldn’t like to see your Willy Reilly banished--would you, now? ROSE. Indeed no, sir. [_Sniffs._] It’s not me that’s driving him across the seas. DAN. God bliss you, Rose, amen! DENIS. Be quiet, gerril! I’ll have noan of this saft nonsense.... I know right well what O’Hagan’s flowery talk amounts to.... PAUL [_rising_]. Let Paul Twyning speak a word.... The solution of this problem is as plain as the nose on your face. Let James Deegan and Denis M’Gothigan give the lovers a modest start in life--sure, the costs of a Dublin law-suit would buy them ten acres and a cow. DENIS. I’m game. I’m raisonable. O’HAGAN. Now, Mr. Deegan, what do you say? DEEGAN. If one penny would buy them a freehold I wouldn’t give it. PAUL [_hotly_]. No, bedamned to you for a pig-headed, selfish ould slave-driver! You’d sooner put them aboord the emigrant ship. O’HAGAN. Oh, oh! This is going too far. DEEGAN. Not at all. Let the vagrant have his say. PAUL. And the vagrant shall have his say! Ireland, north, south, east, and west, is lowzy with your kind. There was more happiness on the Irish homestead when you were paying the rack-rent and eating the lumpers. PATRICK. Oh, the holy truth! PAUL. Since the ould generation of farmers got cheque-books, they never smiled again. PATRICK. Oh, Mozes, true! PAUL. The omnipotent God knows what you’ll be like if ever you get Home Rule. I wouldn’t like to be Dan Deegan and vote Labour. DAN. Devil a vote you’d have if you were me. PAUL. But I’d like well to be the first Irish Chancellor. Then I’d bring back the smile to the ould Deegan faces. I’d give them just what acres they could till, at a smart rent to the States, and there’d be plenty of land left for the boys. O’HAGAN. That’s Lalor. PAUL. And it’s Twyning, too! DEEGAN. And it’s everybody like you--tramps and paupers.